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He moves to take me in his arms, and my heart sinks, because I know what will happen. He will whisk me outside in a flurry of cobwebs and then whisk me back inside, and I’ll still be as trapped as ever. I put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “I want a door,” I say gently. “One that is available at all times, like the one to my room.”
“But you are safest enclosed in the tower with us.”
“Ossev?”
“Yes?”
“Are you a god?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can protect me.”
He blinks again, digesting this, then nods. “I will…take you outside. With a door.”
“Thank you.”
I can tell he doesn’t entirely understand, but he’s desperate to please me. Perhaps I’m pushing too hard, but after the memories of Alothan, all I can think about is how desperately I wanted to escape him for all those long years. How I watched the door to my room every night, wishing that it led anywhere but to the brothel. How trapped I’d felt.
I’ve felt trapped here, too, just in different ways.
We walk down to the kitchens together, and Ossev pauses on the threshold of the door that’s magically locked. He runs a hand over it and the locks fall off, the heavy wood swinging open. A cold breeze immediately swirls inside, ruffling my hair and catching my skirts. I breathe it in and I’m filled with a heavy sense of relief.
Outside.
“Thank you,” I say again.
“You’re cold.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.” The cold feels good. It reminds me that we’re high in the mountains at the edge of the world, but we are still a part of the world. Sometimes I feel all too disconnected when nothing but spiderwebs and stone walls surround me. “Will you come outside with me?”
Ossev nods, and I lead the way.
I step over the threshold and outside, crossing my arms over my chest at the bitter breeze. I need to make myself a thick cloak if I plan on going outside often. And if it’s up to me, I will absolutely be going outside as frequently as possible. Pulling my fingers back into the warmth of my long sleeves, I tuck my hands under my arms and look around at the desolate landscape. I’ve been inside the tower so long I’d forgotten just how dreary and gray it is out here. The sky is overcast without a hint of sunlight peeping through, and the distant mountains enclose the nearby lake and the tower itself like a mouth with jagged teeth. I stare out at the lake. The surface is perfectly smooth, like glass, but I know that’s deceiving. Out there are gigantic serpents that live under the surface.
I remember one swallowed Vitar whole. “Will the serpents hurt me? If I go near the water?”
“Nothing will hurt you,” Ossev says. “We will not allow it.”
For some reason, I find that answer pleasing. I know that my presence in the tower can be seen as imprisonment, but if they let me wander freely and without harm, it means I’m not so trapped as I thought. The realization helps a lot. I smile over at Ossev and then start walking, circling around the tower. It looks far more slender outside than it does on the inside, and I wonder if that is magic of some kind. Out here, it looks a bit like a lighthouse I saw on the coast once, tall and narrow, but the interior feels spacious and warm, if covered in webs. There’s a long, chalky-looking cliff with stone stairs cut out of the rock, leading down to the shore. More stone stairs have been cut into the base of the tower, leading to a small grassy area that’s overrun with knee-high weeds and scraggly ground cover.
“There used to be a garden here,” says Ossev suddenly.
I turn to him in surprise. “Was there?”
He gazes out at the weedy surroundings. “Perhaps so. We have had visitors in the past that stayed for a long time. One might have made a garden.”
“You can’t recall? But your job is to view the past.” I’m surprised he doesn’t remember, because Ossev always seems so settled compared to Neska and Zaroun. Perhaps I’ve misinterpreted what his job truly is.
“I see the past,” he agrees. “But I see so many that they run together after a while. I can search through my threads and look for mentions of a garden, but…” He shrugs. “It is unimportant. This area is yours now.” His eyes glaze over and his expression grows distant. “Perhaps it was always your garden. Perhaps I am seeing a loop of time and not a thread.”
I have no idea what that means, but I appreciate the gift nevertheless. “Thank you. I’m excited.”
“Are you? Over a patch of dirt?”
“Over the freedom to work this patch of dirt, yes. To sit in the sun, should it ever come out, and to breathe in the fresh air.” I smile up at him. “And to grow vegetables, if I can get them to grow at all. Having fresh food every now and then would be a lovely change.”
Ossev gazes down at me. “You can go anywhere you like. I will leave the door in place for you. Just do not try to cross the Ashen Deep.” He gestures out at the still waters. “Our boundary is there. Time flows differently once you leave our home, and one day might pass like two hundred years.”
